


Chasing Imagination

by officialmaknae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Blood and Gore, M/M, Mental Instability, One Shot, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7334377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officialmaknae/pseuds/officialmaknae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyungsoo has the ability to manipulate reality with his imagination, but maybe his imagination is manipulating him right back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Imagination

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from AsianFanFics: http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/973738/chasing-imagination-angst-fantasy-romance-supernatural-exo-chensoo
> 
> Dedicated to my best friend in the entire world. They know who they are.
> 
> Based off of a prompt I got from Pinterest!

Kyungsoo doesn't know when it started. He wasn't sure when he became aware of the fact that reality was a pliable toy for him, free to manipulate and change how he saw fit.

Maybe it had happened slowly, something that developed over time and would become stronger as he got older, or maybe he had been born with it. It was hard for him to remember things. He blamed the IV in his arm that almost incessantly dripped a clear liquid into his bloodstream. He had been hooked up to it for years, and it kept his brain from seeping into the real world. He didn't like the clear liquid and he didn't like the lady that always came in to change the bag of it. She reminded him too much of a snake, her mouth thin and her eyes round and reptilian. She always spoke to him in a soft voice, but he never spoke back. He wished they would change his nurse back to the same man that had originally treated him in the asylum.

He always thought fondly of Jongdae. He was taller than Kyungsoo was, with sharp cheekbones and an angular face. His eyes were kind and the deepest brown that made Kyungsoo's head spin. He didn't want to lie, he had developed a crush on the man, and Kyungsoo wanted to think that the nurse returned the feelings of affection that Kyungsoo had for him, but he knew better. It was simply Jongdae's job to make sure Kyungsoo was always happy, to keep up his endorphins, and to create a good atmosphere for him. Sometimes, when it was a rainy day or when Kyungsoo was feeling especially down, Jongdae would let him go a few hours without the clear liquid. It filtered through his body at an alarming rate, and within thirty minutes, he would be able to show Jongdae whatever he wanted. Jongdae was the only person who really took the time to get to know Kyungsoo, but then again, they had almost grown up together.When he made the move from his home into the mental hospital at the age of six, Jongdae had been ten, and was training to become a medical assistant in any way he could. Being around someone relatively his age made the transformation a bit easier. It made him feel almost normal to have a friend.

Though Kyungsoo was a mental patient, he wasn't tied down to his bed or kept in a padded room. He was deemed suitable and safe when he was on the clear liquid, so his room was very similar to a bedroom. He had a small twin bed with white sheets that always smelt like antiseptic, a desk in the corner where he had schoolbooks he had requested (they weren't going to allow him to get an education otherwise), and there were some drawings up on the walls of things he had come up with. Some of the things were Jongdae's creations as well. There were also cards on the walls, the ones from his parents that he never answered, but liked to keep nonetheless.

The lack of parental presence in Kyungsoo's life confused him. Jongdae talked about his parents often, telling Kyungsoo about how they gave him wonderful gifts for his birthday, offering him cookies his mother had made, and asking Kyungsoo about his parents in return. Kyungsoo had never really been able to answer his questions. His parents had always been distant from him, and from this, Kyungsoo guessed that maybe he was born with his ability rather than growing into it. His mother always smiled at him when he showed her something, but it was a pitiful smile, like something you would give to a homeless man on the street. His father never actually spoke to him, just responding to his son's affections with a grunt or a nod of the head. Maybe he had been too much for them. Maybe they weren't prepared to have a son like him.

Maybe it wouldn't have been a big deal if he liked to imagine things like kittens and vast forests filled with magical creatures, but Kyungsoo did not like to think of these things. The first few years of his life, he did, but he found that after a while, the excitement soon white-washed to boredom. That was when he began to let the darker thoughts creep in. This seemed to worry his parents, and the day his mother found him sitting in the floor of his room holding a conversation with a man with no eyes, he was sent away.

He had explained all of this to Jongdae, who didn't seem to understand. He made quite a good point when Kyungsoo had told him: his parents were being selfish. To him, the thought of what is "wrong" and what is "right" is relative. Like one who is religious would see sex before marriage as wrong, but perhaps someone who had not grown up in a religious household would not. In that mind frame, was wanting to explore a hidden part of his mind wrong? Was it perverse? Jongdae advised him to keep figuring it out. He believed that Kyungsoo would become depressed if he didn't allow himself to know what was lying in wait for him inside of his head. Kyungsoo still had access to his mind, of course, but it was only in his sleep. When he was awake, everything was diluted and he could barely come up with stories to tell Jongdae to keep him entertained. But he hadn't had to do that in a while now, because he was now seventeen, and he hadn't seen Jongdae since his fifteenth birthday.

Kyungsoo had wanted to ask about him, and had the first day his current nurse started working, but she only shrugged, saying that she didn't know. He would have asked someone else, but the only human contact he really had was with his nurse. He wished he had Jongdae back.

 

"How are you feeling this morning, Kyungsoo?" His nurse asked, coming into the room as he laid in his bed. He was curled half-way into the fetal position, the hand that had the IV in it palm-down. It had become an instinct to have that hand safe at all times, even when he slept, showered, read books. If it so much as came loose,  in his room would alert the medical personnel, and no matter how hard he tried to convince them it was an accident, he would be given a sedative that seemed strong enough to knock out a horse.

He opened his eyes, blinking and watching as she replaced his almost-empty IV bag with one that was full. She had already sat his tray of breakfast on his desk, and his stomach growled. They served him three meals a day, and while they were satisfying enough, he missed the snacks Jongdae would sneak in for him. He slowly got up, stretching carefully, and walked towards the desk to sit down. He began to eat.

"You're going to have an exciting day today," she told him. Kyungsoo didn't say anything back; she said something like this almost every day, but it was a lie. He'd like to believe it, but once every day was just a repeat of the previous, his interest in life inside the hospital had started to dull.

She left, only returning to take the now-empty plate away. Kyungsoo had already started to read one of his textbooks, trying to get interested in the history of journalism, but failing. He still feigned reading though, his eyes unfocused and glossy. If he had access to his ability, he could make the book come alive and speak to him, act out the words in it. He could feel his imagination flowing through his veins, but it was like a thin veil separating him from it. It was like the aftertaste of a food in your mouth, knowing it was once there, but not quite being able to experience it like you once could. He felt a headache coming on.

 

Kyungsoo opened his eyes as a light touch brushed against his cheek; he must have fallen back asleep. His vision cleared and Jongdae's face came into clarity.

A smile broke across his lips, a bubble of laughter streaming from his chest. His eyes were wide as he took him in. He had gotten older; how old was he now, twenty-one?

"Jongdae," he said, feeling like it was the first word he had spoken in years, and in all honesty, it probably was. His throat was scratchy and dry, making his voice crack a bit. He reached out to touch his face, the line of sharp bone that curved in his cheeks, but then pulled his hand back, frowning. "You left me."

"I know," he said, looking down and taking a seat on Kyungsoo's bed. It gave underneath his weight. Kyungsoo sat up, pulling his legs up to his chest. Jongdae's face turned back towards him. "I didn't want to. They transferred me away to a different hospital, and I've been putting in forms to be put back here ever since."

"Why didn't you come and see me?" He asked. "You don't work all the time."

Jongdae swallowed. "They wouldn't let me come see you. They felt that it would only be detrimental to your progress."

"Progress?" He repeated, rolling his eyes. "I haven't made any progress. I do the same thing every day; I'm a trained animal for them."

"I know," Jongdae said soothingly, his arm outstretched and touching Kyungsoo's hand. "But I have some good news."

Kyungsoo looked up at him at this, listening. When Jongdae said he had good news, he always meant it. It wasn't the type of good news his nurse now brought him; good news to her was having an extra Jell-O cup with his dinner. Jongdae's good news was always something worthwhile, like telling him he had snuck in a library book for him. Excitement swelled in his chest.

"They said they're going to release you when you turn eighteen."

Kyungsoo made a sound, slouching back down. "No, they're not. They won't release me unless someone steps forward that volunteers to take care of me. Someone they deem appropriate, someone trained, someone that would make my life more miserable than it would be in here."

"If you don't want to live with me, just say so," Jongdae muttered, a smirk forming on his thin lips.

Kyungsoo looked up at him so quickly he thought that his head would snap off. "What? Say that again."

"If you don't want to live with me," he said slower. "Just say so."

"They'd let me live with you?" Kyungsoo crawled closer to Jongdae, sitting beside him and staring up at him. "How?"

"They think that maybe living with someone you've grown up with will help you form into someone better. I still have to make sure you're on your medication, but you'll be a _real person,_ Kyungsoo. You'll be able to go outside and live in the real world." Jongdae stood up, walking over to the lone window in the room and pushed the curtains aside, letting the sunshine from the day blind Kyungsoo. He held his hand up to shield his eyes, but the warmth of it felt nice.

"Jongdae..." He said slowly. "I don't know if I'll be able to function in the real world. I won't know how." 

For years, Kyungsoo had given up the thought of seeing the world beyond the hospital walls. He hadn't even been outside of his room in months. What would he do when he could go wherever, do whatever he wanted? It felt like the heat of the sun had been injected directly into his chest, a feeling swelling up that he didn't know he would ever come into contact with again.

"Oh, Kyungsoo, you're crying," Jongdae said softly, kneeling down in front of him. He used the pads of his thumbs to brush the tears away from his cheeks; Kyungsoo leaned into the action, but Jongdae's fingertips felt oddly cold. He wasn't surprised. It was always cold in his room. "I'll teach you. I'll show you how to live like a human. You won't ever have to be trapped here ever again, you won't ever have to be trapped  _anywhere_  ever again. You'll be free."

Jongdae gazed up at him from his spot on the floor, gaging his reaction. Kyungsoo didn't know what to say, his mouth felt too dry to speak, and his breathing was stuttering in his chest. He bit back a sob.

"Y-You don't have to, if you don't want to," Jongdae supplied quickly, misreading his reaction. There was sincerity to his words, but his face fell.

"No, no, of course I want to. I want to live with you." The words came out in a rush, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth, the action of talking awkward. "Oh, God, I never thought I'd leave here."

He covered his face with his hands as he started to weep, fresh tears spilling from his eyes and down his cheeks. Jongdae put his head in his shoulder, pulling his fingers through his hair as he consoled the young boy. His body shook with the force of his sobs, but the sounds coming from his chest let Jongdae know how relieved he was to know he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life in a room where the walls were too white and the bed sheets were too crisp. He was going to be able to sleep someplace warm and wake up and be able to walk through an actual  _house_  and be able to leave of his own free will.

"I missed you so much," Kyungsoo murmured after he had calmed down a bit. He still didn't move his head from Jongdae's shoulder, so Jongdae didn't stop the motion of his fingers running through his hair.

He smiled, leaning his cheek against the boy's head. "I'm here now, and I'm not going to leave you."

 

Jongdae had brought him the news in early November, and Kyungsoo counted down the days he had until January, until he would be a free man. He started greeting the nurse in the mornings when she brought him his breakfast, and he thought it was a bit strange that Jongdae wasn't reinstated as his nurse, but he didn't say anything. Jongdae was with him every day regardless of the fact if he was his nurse or not. He was there as soon as visiting hours became open and left when they ended. They caught up on lost time together, Jongdae telling Kyungsoo about the things that had gone on at the other hospital, Kyungsoo showing Jongdae all the things he had learned since he had been gone.

"Here, I brought you something," Jongdae said one day while him and Kyungsoo were sitting against his bed, looking out of the window and trying to find shapes in the clouds. Kyungsoo's head was resting on his shoulder, his knees up to his chest, and he unfolded a bit to look up at the older man.

"What is it?" He asked, watching Jongdae dig around in his pocket before producing a pink peony.

Amazingly, it wasn't crushed, and the petals were in such perfect condition it seemed as though he had just plucked it. He held the beautiful blossom out to Kyungsoo, who took it with a shaking hand. It was so exquisite, it seemed like it couldn't be real, but as his fingers brushed against the stem, the weight was steady.

"It's so pretty." He looked at Jongdae, his eyes still wide from soaking in the elegance of the flower. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he smiled, lips stretching across his white teeth. "I thought that I should bring you something that reminded me of you."

"The flower made you think of me?" He questioned, his eyes showing a skeptical expression.

He nodded. "Like you said, it's pretty."

Kyungsoo swallowed, his face flushing at the sudden compliment, and he wanted to stutter out a thank you, but his mouth wouldn't work. He only nodded, laying his head back down on Jongdae's shoulder as he fingered the soft, plush petals of the peony.

When he left for the day, Kyungsoo laid the flower on his desk so he could look at it as he ate breakfast the next morning, but when he woke up, it was gone. With a scowl, Kyungsoo suspected his nurse, knowing she had a love of flowers and liked to tell him which ones were in bloom every time spring came around. He wanted to ask her about it, but he didn't. Besides, it was only a flower. He was sure Jongdae would bring him others.

But he didn't.

 

As November faded in December, Jongdae became more distant. Kyungsoo had become reliant on his company, on his entertainment to keep him happy during the day, and the first day he didn't come see him, he dreaded something horrible had happened. He sat in bed, hyperventilating as more doctors than he'd seen in months surrounded him. He screamed at him, demanding to know where Jongdae was, pleading to know if he was okay, not noticing that the whole time he shrieked, the storm outside became more intense, lightning blinding the medical personnel and thunder shaking the building. It only relented when they pricked his skin with a syringe filled with a sedative that knocked him out for a few hours, but when Kyungsoo woke up, Jongdae still wasn't there.

When he visited the next day, Kyungsoo ran into his chest as best as he could with the IV in his hand, wrapping himself around his strong frame, breathing in the smell of fresh air and soft linen. But there was something off about his smell, like he had been around a garbage can for too long or stepped in something gross on his way here. Kyungsoo brush that thought aside though, shaking as Jongdae shushed him.

"You weren't here," he said. "I thought something had happened. I thought you'd left."

"I'm not leaving you, Soo," his voice lulled in his ear. "I was looking for us a place to live. The apartment I have now isn't in a good neighborhood, and I want you to have a good place to stay. I want to keep you safe."

Kyungsoo's fingers gripped at Jongdae's shirt, desperate for something to hold on to, for something to ground him. "I was scared."

Jongdae stepped back half a step, tilting Kyugsoo's chin upwards to look him in the face. Jongdae's eyes were murky with something Kyungsoo couldn't put his finger on. "You really don't believe I won't leave you, do you?" The question was soft, like he was speaking to someone very delicate. It wasn't accusatory like Kyungsoo was terrified it might become.

He didn't respond, only licking his lips and not meeting his eyes as he tried to pull away, but Jongdae kept him firmly where he stood.

"Kyungsoo, look at me," he said gently, nudging his face back up with his fingers.

When he did, Jongdae held his gaze caefully, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Kyungsoo's, making the younger boy's heart hammer in his chest. Kyungsoo had never been kissed before, and he didn't know what to expect, but he supposed a first kiss could be a lot worse. Jongdae's mouth was warm and inviting, the faint taste of coffee coming through to land on Kyungsoo's tongue as he reciprocated the action. He was scared  he was making all sorts of mistakes, but when he pulled away, Jongdae only smiled.

Kyungsoo felt a blush rising in his face, so he looked away, stepping back, and this time, Jongdae let him.

They spent that day just like any other day, not even acknowledging the kiss, but Kyungsoo's lips still burned from it, and when he thought about it, his mouth went dry.

Jongdae started to miss more and more visits, Kyungsoo sometimes going three to four days without seeing him. He started to dread living with Jongdae, even though he knew he was working things out so that they could live in a nice home. Jongdae had told him about it. It had two bedrooms and one bathroom, a spacious living room and a nice kitchen that Jongdae assured him he would love. He had already decorated Kyungsoo's room, he said, with things he would like and his favorite books. He told him it still looked a bit empty, but after he lived there for a little while, it would become full of things he enjoyed. It was a few streets down from the hospital, within walking distance, and Jongdae thought it would be a good idea for them to walk there together on Kyungsoo's eighteenth birthday to give him a taste of life outside of these grave walls.

But what if living there was going to be the same as being here? What if he felt trapped? He knew Jongdae had promised he would be able to go where he wanted, but would he? Would he even want to? Had he become so accustomed to being caged in that a life where he could do otherwise was unappealing? Would he be even more sullen there?

He pushed these thoughts from his mind. He knew living with Jongdae was going to be amazing, and he wasn't going to ruin it for himself.

 

"Have you decided what you want for Christmas?" Jongdae asked him, his fingers tracing circles into Kyungsoo's back as he laid on his chest. Kyungsoo rarely got to lay on his chest, as Jongdae was rarely there anymore. He knew it was selfish, but Kyungsoo wished he was here more often than he was. But he wasn't going to complain, he only had a little less than a month left. He could make that. He'd waited years, he could wait a little bit longer.

"Christmas isn't until next week," Kyungsoo said, trying to ignore how bony Jongdae's fingers were as they pressed into his skin. Had they always been like that? "Besides, I wouldn't be able to get you anything."

"I know, but don't you want something?"

Kyungsoo shook his head, pressing his face further into Jongdae's neck, sighing. "I got what I wanted for Christmas a little while back."

"And what was that?" He questioned.

"Who," he corrected lazily, stretching his legs out.

"Ah, then  _who_?"

"Go look in a mirror sometime, you'll figure it out," he answered. He felt Jongdae's chest rumble with light laughter, his heart beat steady against his ear.

Jongdae's lips brushed against the top of his head, and Kyungsoo watched the day slowly turning into dusk through the widow. It was snowing, flurries of white ice drifting down from above and leaving the ground covered in a thin layer of frost.

"I love you," Jongdae murmured, so quietly that Kyungsoo barely heard it. His ears pricked and he sat up, looking down at him. Jongdae stared back, not looking embarrassed in the slightest. One of his arms were tucked behind his head, the other outstretched to catch Kyungsoo's hand, sliding his fingers between the younger's.

"I..." Kyungsoo swallowed, his chest screaming with twelve different emotions, which made it hard to repeat it. "I love you."

"You're not just saying that because you think you have to, are you?" Jongdae asked, his lips breaking into a small smile over his face. Seeing the white of his teeth next to his skin made Kyungsoo realize how pale he had gotten, the once tan skin now seeming to have been bleached a bit.

"Of course not," Kyungsoo insisted. "Why would I do that?"

"To make me happy." Jongdae thought a moment, his eyes traveling all over Kyungsoo's face. "But you wouldn't have to say that to make me happy. Being around you makes me happy. Seeing you happy makes me happy."

"You're rambling," he said, leaning down to kiss the elder to make him be quiet.

He sighed, pressing his forehead against Jongdae's as he laced their fingers together. They fit together perfectly, even if Jongdae was a bit thinner than he normally was. Kyungsoo wasn't surprised. With all the paperwork he was having to file between getting him out of the hosiptal and the legal work to buy a new house, it wasn't doubtful that he was stressed. He had managed to sell the apartment he was living in, so now they had a bit of spending money when Kyungsoo was out. It made him feel bad for wanting Jongdae to be around more often than he was. How could he be angry at the man who was giving up everything to be with him?

He looked into Jongdae's eyes, memorizing the colors that were already imprinted into his brain. He stroked his cheek, the smooth skin caressing his fingertips.

 _Yes,_  he thought.  _I love you_.

 

The nurse started to up the dosage of the clear liquid Kyungsoo's IV pumped into his body.

"Is it so my body can break down higher doses?" He asked. Jongdae had explained to him that he would still have to be on medication, but it wouldn't be through an IV. It would be a shot, twice a day, and it would be stronger and more focused as to stay in his system. He wasn't going to argue. It was better than having an IV by his side 24/7.

The nurse didn't respond, only looking at him as though he hadn't spoken at all. This didn't both Kyungsoo; she seemed to be becoming less talkatative as it grew closer and closer to Kyungsoo's birthday. She must know by now that Jongdae was going to be taking him out of the hospital. Was she bitter? Was she going to miss him? The latter question made him smile, and he'd like to think so. She'd been his nurse for almost three years; it was only rational for her to have formed some kind of bond with him, even if most of their conversations were one-sided up until this point.

Despite the fact that Kyungsoo had more drugs pumping through his body than ever, he started to be able to feel his power build up in his blood. It confused him. Was his body building up an immunity? Was it maybe a different drug? Or was it that he finally had hope for something? He was certain it was just hope; it was impossible for his body to decide to fight back now after all these years. If it was an immunity, it would have started years ago, not now. Whatever it was, Kyungsoo kept it hidden. If he started to show symptoms of being extraordinary again, he was sure they wouldn't let him leave. He could control himself until then.

One thing he wasn't going to control, however, was his excitement for Christmas. It had been a while since Kyungsoo had been genuinely happy over a holiday, but now, when he saw people outside of his window wearing festive colors and singing Christmas songs, he felt the spirit of the season, too. The nurse always set up a small Christmas tree in the corner of his room and decorated it, and Kyungsoo never helped her, always too bitter about her setting up the tree and not Jongdae, but this time, he did.

She seemed to be pleasantly surprised at his warmth, smiling when he offered to help, and accepting it with a smile. They decorated the small tree in all kinds of colors, Kyungsoo always preferring a more home-y look than the rigid schemes of red and gold or blue and silver. Some part of him panged, faintly remembering that this was how his mother decorated their tree. Or was it? Did she like decorating with a scheme? He couldn't remember.

"My daughter never liked these," the nurse said, holding up tinsel. "She says it's too dramatic for Christmas."

"You have a daughter?" Kyungsoo asked, hanging a green ornament on one of the branches. If his nurse was going to talk, he was going to take advantage of it. Besides, it was nice to have someone to talk to.

"Yes, two of them. One is in college and the other is in high school."

"What about a husband or wife? Are you married?"

"Divorced," she said with a guilty smile. She handed Kyungsoo flavored candy canes to hand. "But it was some time ago, and it was better for both me and the girls."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He felt embarrassed. Why was he prying?

"Don't be." She gave him a reassuring smile, patting his hand with one of her own. It felt warm. "Do you ever hear from your parents?"

Kyungsoo swallowed, thinking. He did, but not often. He received birthday cards and Christmas cards, sometimes gifts, but that was the extent of it. They came to visit a few times in the first year of his stay, but each visit was more and more cold, and eventually he was just a young boy standing with his nose to the window of his room, waiting for a car to appear that would never come. He wondered what they did now. Did they have another child, or had he scarred them so much that they decided to not try again? Did they still live in the same house? Did they still live in the same country? There was never a return address on the envelopes his cards came in, so he didn't know.

"Sometimes." The word was thick, but he looked up and smiled at the woman.

"I'm sure they love you, but they're not sure what's best for you." She seemed like she was trying to comfort him, but Kyungsoo shook his head.

"Mm," he hummed. "They don't love me. They want to love me, I'm positive, but they're too distant to actually do it. Too afraid, you know?" The woman cocked her head, listening. "It's like, when you're preparing to have a child, and all these things are running through your head, like,  _will I love him even if he's gay_?  _What if he's Autistic? Will I love him then?_ And of course, you decide, of course you'll love him because he's your flesh and blood and you want to do everything for him that you can."

He stopped, looking down and biting his lip as he dragged his finger along a reflective ornament, looking at himself.

"But you often don't ask the question,  _What if he's not natural?_ "

 

On Christmas morning, Kyungsoo woke up to Jongdae sitting in front of him on his bed, smiling widely. Kyungsoo blinked, looking at him.

"Merry Christmas, Soo," he whispered, reaching out and touching his hair.

Kyungsoo sat up, pulling him close to kiss him, grinning into the action. Then Jongdae's arms wrapped around him, crushing Kyungsoo into his ever-thin frame. His smell was still off, but he didn't notice, because he was just glad he was there.

"You're here so early," he said, nuzzling further into his chest. It was barely light outside.

"It's Christmas; they let me in for the sake of the holiday. Unless you want me to leave..."

"No!" He nearly screamed, clutching onto the man's shirt.

Jongdae laughed, the low sound wrapping around him like a warm embrace, and he smiled.

"I was going to bring you something, but you'll be out of here in less than a month anyway, so I didn't see the point. Besides, it's your birthday soon and I'll take you into the city and I'll buy you whatever you want." He rested his chin on Kyungsoo's head. "Does that sound okay?"

"It sounds great," he said, but he frowned a bit. "Aren't you going to see your parents today?"

Jongdae shrugged. "They understand. Besides, I get to see them all the time, and they want me to be with you since you don't have anyone. They're excited to meet you."

The thought of meeting Jongdae's parents sent a shiver down his spine.

"Don't be nervous about it," he told him. "They already love you. Plus, they don't care if everyone else thinks something is wrong with you. They think your gift is wonderful." He pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Just like I do."

"So you're going to be here all day?" He asked, looking up at him.

Jongdae nodded. "I don't have to leave until nine tonight."

Kyungsoo felt his chest flutter, a wide smile breaking out over his face.

He meant what he had said about not having to leave until nine, and Kyungsoo didn't think he had ever had such a good Christmas. They played games, swapped jokes, and enjoyed each other's company. Sometimes they just laid on Kyungsoo's bed so tangled together where you couldn't tell where one body ended and another began. Kyungsoo talked about all the things he wanted to see outside of the hospital, the places he wanted to go, the things he wanted to try, and Jongdae listened attentively. When Kyungsoo told him about his lifelong wish to go to a library and spend the day in it, he laughed, but he promised he would make it happen. He even told Kyungsoo that one day he would take him to America to see the Statue of Liberty. Jongdae had been to America a few times, learning bits and pieces about the culture, and he reassured Kyungsoo that he would love it. He believed him.

When he had to go, Kyungsoo fought off the urge to cry, but tears still welled in his eyes. Jongdae wiped them away with his thumb.

"Hey, don't cry," he said softly, smiling at the boy in adoration. "Soon, every day can be like this. I won't ever have to leave you."

He kissed Kyungsoo hard on the mouth, and then he was gone. Kyungsoo missed him already.

 

Kyungsoo didn't see him again for a while. A few days passed, and then a week. The days blurred together and he realized that his time was divided in two categories: with Jongdae and without Jongdae. He pathetically became aware that he was one of those people that clung to their lover, but he couldn't help it, not when Jongdae was giving him his freedom and a new life and everything in between. He was counting down the days to his birthday but also counting how long it had been since he had last seen Jongdae. It started to worry him; he had never been absent this long. With a shudder, he thought that maybe Jongdae had decided that he was too much for him to bear. He was still young, did he want to tie himself down with someone disabled?

He started to sleep a lot, not getting out of bed unless it was to pick at the food his nurse brought him. Her looks towards him grew increasingly pitiful. Did she know something? Surely not, he thought, she would have told him by now. She wouldn't allow him to wallow in his own self-pity if she knew something.

It had been over two weeks since Jongdae had come to see him now, and Kyungsoo's birthday would be any day now. He felt that his birthday was something of a finish line; it would tell whether Jongdae had abandoned him or not, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the outcome. He was excited beyond comprehension, but at the same time, he was struck with crippling fear that he wouldn't come and he would spend the next eighteen years of his life the same way he had thus far.

 

On the morning of his birthday, he was shaken awake.

"Soo! Wake up! Soo?"

He opened his eyes, taking in the bleary surroundings. It wasn't light yet, and his room was still covered in darkness. He could just see the person standing over him.

"Jongdae, what - ?"

"Get up, come on, get dressed," he whispered. "It's time to go."

With steady hands, he pulled the IV out of Kyungsoo's hand, laying jeans and a shirt on his bed beside him. Without hesitating, Kyungsoo stood, dressing quickly and pulling shoes onto his feet. It felt weird being in this sort of attire, as he was normally in some kind of clothes that resembled pajamas, and he couldn't remember the last time he had worn proper shoes. Jongdae stood at his door, holding it open and peeking out of it, looking side to side. How had he gotten it unlocked?

"What time is it?" Kyungsoo asked, his voice still heavy with sleep as he rubbed at his eyes.

"A little before five." He looked back at Kyungsoo, taking him in and smiling.

With the light of the hallway coming in, he could see Jongdae clearly, and he looked inhuman. He was scarily thin, bones of his wrist protruding unnaturally and his face hollow. His eyes looked abnormally large, his smile almost eerie. He was so pale it seemed that the light went through his skin. Kyungsoo swallowed, trying to smile back.

"Where were you?" He asked. "Why have you been gone?"

"I had to finish some things up," he shrugged, like it was no big deal. Kyungsoo could see the bones of his shoulder as he did so.

"Where are we going?"

"Home." He gave Kyungsoo another look, seeming more happy than ever. "Happy birthday, Soo." He reached back to grab Kyungsoo's hand, the coldness of his grasp making Kyungsoo shiver. He pulled him into the hallway behind him, walking determinedly towards the exit.

Kyungsoo hadn't seen this area of the hospital in months, and he took it in. They walked along the main hallway, moving so quickly Kyungsoo almost had to run to keep up. He looked around, noting how empty the hospital was. That was unusual. Normally, even in the dead of night, it was buzzing with activity. Where was everyone?

His vision stuttered, showing him red stains all over the floor and on the walls, bodies of people everywhere. He gasped, blinked, and it was gone.

He tugged on Jongdae's hand as they passed the reception area. "Shouldn't we tell them?"

Jongdae waved a dismissive hand, not stopping. "I've already taken care of it; after all, I've been waiting for this for months. Everything's taken care of, Soo, don't worry."

He cast one more look back into the hallway as they slipped out of the exit, red staining his vision once more, and this time, he saw the body of his nurse sitting in the chair at the reception desk, slumped over. Her throat was slit. He shook his head, the vision fading and everything clearing.

"Jongdae, I-I keep seeing things." He shivered as they stepped into the snow; he hadn't brought a jacket. "I think something's wrong."

"It's just your body processing the last of the medication. They'll go away soon, I promise."

Kyungsoo followed after him, his hand still in Jongdae's as he focused on trying not to slip on the icy road. The city was huge around them, but it was all dark, like everyone had gone to bed at the same time. There were no cares parked beside the curb, no street lamps on, no _people_. Were cities always like this?

A head-splitting pain struck his skull, causing his knees to buckle. It felt like his brain was collapsing in on itself, like there had been a black hole opened up inside of him and it wasn't going to stop until there was nothing left of him. He cradled his head in his hands, seeing white behind his eyes. He felt warmth drip down his mouth; his nose was bleeding.

"Soo?" Jongdae's voice sounded like it was coming through static, but Kyungsoo still looked up. 

He was flickering in and out of Kyungsoo's vision, like he was trying to watch a channel on TV that didn't have good signal. There was a buzzing in his head that was developing into a sharp-pitched whine. His surroundings were switching between two worlds: one with Jongdae, where everything was quiet and peaceful, and one without Jongdae, with the city in flames. Which one was real? What was going on?

"Soo, I've got you, come on."

Bony arms swept him up, carrying him bridal style as his environment settled to be with Jongdae. He pressed his face into his neck, smearing the skin with his bood, but he didn't notice because the pain in his head was unparalleled to anything he had ever felt before. He wished for death - fuck living with Jongdae, fuck the city, fucking going to America -  _fuck it all_ , he wanted to die. If this was living, he didn't want any part of it. He was trembling in Jongdae's hold, still freezing. It was so cold, but the center in his head felt like it was melting.

"I'm cold," he choked out, sounding like he had something stuck in his throat. Out of everything else he was feeling, this was the only thing he could verbalize.

"We're almost there," he whispered, reaffirming his hold on Kyungsoo. He wasn't anywhere close to out of breath, but Kyungsoo knew that he had to be heavy, especially since Jongdae was all skin and bone.

He looked up to see the surroundings, and they flickered again; he felt Jongdae's grasp on him slipping and then he was on the concrete of the road, trying to hold himself up on his hands, but they were shaking violently. His eyes cast around for Jongdae, but he was no where. The city was stuck again, cars overturned in the middle of the street, bulidings on fire, dirt and muck all over his body. Where did that come from?

He wiped at his face, blood staining his hand.

"Jongdae?" He called, head whipping around as he stood. He staggered forward a few steps. He couldn't hear anything but the ringing in his head and a car siren somewhere in the distance. "Jongdae!"

Static filled his head again, his body bending at the middle as he caught his head with quivering hands. " _Fuck_!"

The car siren faded away, fingers wrapped around his wrist and he looked up at Jongdae, who had a look of utmost concern on his face.

"What's happening?" Kyungsoo asked. "I can't - "

"Don't let go of me, Kyungsoo," he said firmly, his hands moving to cup the boy's cheeks. "Don't let me go."

"Tell me what's going on!" He burst, tears burning at his eyes from the pressure building at the base of his skull. "Tell me! You know!"

"We need to go home, Kyungsoo," he seemed to be pleading, grabbing his shoulders and trying to pull him weakly towards the house. Kyungsoo could see it in the distance, and he didn't know how he knew, but he knew that was the one Jongdae had bought. "Please, let's go home."

He gave in, allowing Jongdae to grab his grimy hand and guide him down the road.

It was a slow walk, Kyungsoo breathing hard with the effort of focusing on Jongdae. He focused on the coldness of his hands, on the way the wind played with his hair, on his steady steps. He focused on how compared to the touch of his skin, the weather felt almost balmy, but he only tightened his grip. He wasn't going to let go.

Jongdae pulled him up the steps, opening the door, and lead him inside. The house was distinctly clean, reminding Kyungsoo of the hospital, but the vibe was completely different. It gave off the feeling of home, and technically, it was home. Kyungsoo was home. But weren't homes supposed to be warm? It was freezing, as cold as it was outside, and there was the smell of ash.

He switched worlds again, a blinding light crippling him as he fell to his knees. The house around him was rubble, ash sticking to his jeans. His nose was bleeding again, drops landing on the floor in front of him. He found it hard to breathe, and his hands were starting to go numb. How long would it take to get frostbite in this weather? He coughed, blood spraying out of his throat, and he stood. His balance was shit, the remains of the building spinning around him, and he had to grab onto a piece of wall to keep from falling over.

He carefully made his way through the house, waiting to switch again, and soon, there was a pull at the bottom of his stomach, Jongdae appearing in front of him. They were halfway down the hallway, and Jongdae grabbed his arm, helping him into what was surely his room. The walls were yellow, the bed sheets white, and save for a few pieces of furniture, it was empty.

"Sit down," Jongdae urged him, helping him towards the bed. Part of him didn't want to ruin the cleanliness of it, but he also felt like he was going to fall apart any moment now, so he got over it.

"Jongdae, please," he said hoarsely. "Tell me what's going on."

"You know what's going on, Soo," he replied, tears welling in his eyes. "Don't let me go. Please don't let me go. You lost me one time, but you brought me back, and I want to stay here with you." He reached out and held Kyungsoo's bloody face in his hands.

"I don't understand," he managed. 

"You're overworking yourself. Stay with me, Soo, please, stay with me. Don't go back there."

"Don't go back where? I'm here with you, what are you talking about?" He kissed Jongdae's lips, leaving red smeared across them. "I'm here."

"You're not," he shook his head. His voice was shaking. "You're not here, Soo, you're not with me. I'm fading away and you're doing everything you can to keep me here, but I'm  _dead._ I don't want to leave. Please don't leave me."

"Jongdae, you're not dead! You're right here!" He told him. "You're not making any sense."

There was a pull in his head again, and he screamed, coming back to the burned building. The bed he was sitting on was old and had scorch marks, the room blackened. His hands were holding air, where they had previously been holding Jongdae's shirt. He cursed, swallowing down blood that was building in his throat.

He started sobbing, pushing his hands into his eyes. He was so confused, in so much pain. Why wasn't Jongdae making any sense? Why wasn't he here?

 _I'm fading away and you're doing everything you can to keep me here, but I'm_ dead.

He shook his head, rejecting that thought. Jongdae wasn't dead. He would know if he was dead. Someone would have told him, his nurse would have told him, his doctor would have told him.

His surroundings changed again, but he was back at the hospital. He sat on his bed, covered in grime, and his nurse walked in, carrying his breakfast tray. She smiled at him, greeting him, but then she made a face as if someone had asked her a question that was hard to answer. She walked close to Kyungsoo's bed, sitting down on it and looking at him, and her words came to him as if delayed. They weren't in time with her mouth.

"Jongdae had an accident. His family was in a crash. She paused as if waiting for a response, and then continued. "No, he's not. I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this. He died on impact."

He knew this was his own memory, that he had put himself back in something that he had repressed for years, but he didn't want to believe it. Did that mean that Jongdae hadn't been with him all this time?The world began spinning and he was back with Jongdae, his hands back on his shirt, hands back on his face.

"Oh my god, you're dead," he whispered. "I brought you back. Oh,  _fuck_."

"Please don't leave me." Tears were clearing his face of the dirt he had accumulated from his contact with Kyungsoo.

"I won't," he promised, but he could feel his grip slipping, he could feel another switch building up. He felt like he was going to vomit and he bent over, blood coming out of his mouth. He felt like he was dying, and all things considering, he wouldn't be surprised if he was.

"It's killing you," Jongdae cried. "Staying with me is killing you. This is wrong"

"I don't care." His words were strong, but the pain in his head was making his vision fuzzy now. "It's like you said when we were younger, right? What's right and what's wrong is relative." The ringing in his ears was louder than ever, and he reached out for Jongdae, determined to not let him go, but before he could grab him, he switched, and landed on the floor.

He didn't even try to pull himself up. He coughed, more blood pooling out of his mouth as his sight went in and out of focus. He couldn't form any clear thoughts, couldn't move his own body. He was tired, so tired, and when he felt another switch starting, he didn't fight back.

He felt the now-familiar pull in his gut, pain sparking across his body, and the deteriorating floor turned back to polished wood. He felt hands on his face, bringing him comfort, but he didn't open his eyes. He was sleepy, and it was time to rest. He was home now.

 

A man sat in a diner, reading the paper as he drank his coffee. Black, no sugar. He liked the strong taste of it; it woke him up, and wasn't that what it was supposed to do? He folded the newspaper up - it was last week's news anyway - and turned his attention to the news anchor on TV, who was speaking rather quickly.

"A patient from a local mental institution escaped early this morning, leaving people mystified as to how he did it. What's even more strange, is that all the personnel in the hospital were found dead, but the fellow patients were unharmed. A doctor that was off duty this morning was familiar with his case, reporting that he had been talking to himself for months while before he was a model patient. He left destruction in his wake, a full street in Seoul completely obliterated. Several cars were flipped along with buildings that had caught fire. Police tracked the suspect to a burned down house a few streets away from the hospital, where they found nothing but a puddle of blood in one of the bedrooms."

The man raised his eyebrows, holding up his mug as a waitress passed him as a signal to refill it.

"Strange stuff, huh?" He asked, looking at her.

"You're telling me. I've had several people in here this morning with all sorts of rumors."

"Like what?"

"Well, after one girl claimed that he had the power to manipulate reality, I stopped listening. I swear, people will believe anything to have things make sense these days."

"Manipulate reality?" He chortled. "I'll believe that when pigs fly."

The waitress laughed, starting to walk away. "You and me both."


End file.
